Breathe
by ScarletBrokenArrow
Summary: "Through it all, you were brothers. And now you're watching him die."
1. Chapter 1

"_R__est easy, fearless warrior, you can sleep now, you can finally calm your bones. Breathe easy, noble savior, only human, still more valiant than us all. Nobody ever said that victory came without casualties… They say the good die young, but they never really tell you that they never die alone, we all fall down. Bury a bit our souls six feet under ground. If you die, then we die with you."_

-Former Vandal, "War Pt II"

You watched him grow up with you, beginning at age four when you knocked his sand castle over.

When your mother died, he was there, and always would be.

You ever had a panic attack, he was there.

You always carried his asthma inhaler for him, because you knew he'd never remember it.

You were the one who made him go into the forest the night he was bitten.

You saw him transform the first few times, and helped him find his anchor.

You witnessed him saving countless lives, and taking pain away from others to bear it himself.

You, with tears in your eyes, pulled the burning flare from his hand that night at the Glen Capri Motel.

You were fighting together when he became the True Alpha he was meant to be.

You saw him walk away, following Deucalion, in order to save your father and his mother.

You were next to him when you both became sacrifices to find your parents.

When you were possessed by the Nogitsune, and he knew the best way to save everyone was to kill you, he refused to let anything harm you.

Through it all, you were brothers.

And now you're watching him die.


	2. Chapter 2

After months of being hunted by the Japanese _Oni_, being possessed by an evil spirit, preventing ritual sacrifices, and trying not to be killed for millions of dollars because of the deadpool, the pack had pretty much forgotten about Werewolf hunters. Your mistake.

It had started innocently enough; Kira, Lydia, Scott, and you were walking to Derek's loft late one night. You had made a joke. Kira and Scott were laughing, and Lydia was blushing as she playfully hit you on the head with her book.

Suddenly, there was the soft but deadly sound of an arrow flying by, and as it hit the wall behind you, a blindingly white flash of electricity exploded, illuminating the street. You hear a _shink _sound as Kira pulls her sword from its sheath, followed quickly by a growl from Scott. You can't see much still, but you can register a street light a ways away and glowing red eyes.

Regular arrows begin flying from the tops of the buildings. _Oh, come on! _You think to yourself. _Can't we just get, like, a week of vacation from people trying to kill us?_

You see Lydia standing by Kira, unsure of what to do. _Me too, Lydia, _you think, slightly bitterly. The shapeshifters are always able to fight, whereas Lydia and Stiles are better suited for making the plans. Suddenly, you see a silhouette of a person melt out of the shadows, a crossbow pointed at the unaware Banshee.

"_Lydia!" _You scream. "Kira, behind you!" At the speed of lightning, Kira turns, and her sword cuts the arrow in half as it's fired at Lydia.

The two girls and you take a breath of relief. But the moment is cut short by a familiar voice shouting-

"_STILES!" _

You turn, fast enough of see out of the corner of your eye an arrow coming at you. You always expected that when you were about to die, you'd see your life flash before your eyes, but nothing happens. At that moment, the world seems to slow down, your mind becoming numb.

Just as the arrow is about to hit you, a dark figure jumps in front of your body, shielding you. You hear a yell of pain, and are concerned because it isn't your voice. You hear Lydia scream and something hit the ground.

Your mind is still numb. Blearily, you look to the ground.

Scott's lying there, an arrow protruding from his chest. Your brother's blood is spreading, staining the asphalt.


	3. Chapter 3

The world goes back to its normal pace, maybe even faster than usual. You don't care.

You scream his name and fall to the ground next to him, already assessing the damage. You know better than anyone he's survived a lot. He's been stabbed, shot, electrocuted, and drowned. He even survived when you, possessed by the Nogitsune, twisted a sword through him. But he's never survived anything like this. You hear snarls and the sound of gunshots from above, telling you that Derek, Peter, Malia, and Braeden have joined the fight. After that, everything fades away, except the sound of Scott's labored breathing and groans of pain.

"Scott? Scotty, keep your eyes open," you beg. "We'll get you to Deaton… you're gonna be okay."

He laughs breathlessly. "I think we both know that's not going to be the case."

You feel the beginning of a panic attack. _Not now, _you plead. _Please, God, not now. _

"Just let me try to get it out," you tell him. He doesn't have the strength to argue. You grab the arrow, and when you attempt to pull it out, he screams loudly. The sound sends such a stab of pain through you, you have to check to make sure the arrow isn't going through your own heart.

You stop, and shakily remove your hand from the arrow, and instead grab his hand. You begin cursing yourself. Why couldn't you have moved fast enough to dodge the arrow? Why weren't you paying attention? You should have been the one to be hit by the arrow. You should have-

"You're already blaming yourself, aren't you?" Scott's voice breaks you from your thoughts. You look at him. "Thought so. It isn't your fault, Stiles."

"You said that about Allison's death," you tell him, wincing at the memory.

"That wasn't your fault, either. It was the Nogitsune." There couldn't be more sincerity in his voice.

"Who's fault was _this_ then?" You cry out, your voice breaking. You feel the stinging of tears in your eyes.

"Mine."

"Jesus, Scott, how the hell could this be your fault?"

He shrugs, then winces. "Well, I was the one who jumped in the way of the arrow. Also, I was the one that said we should we should walk."

You open your mouth to reply, about to say those were terrible reasons, but your mind goes blank when he yells in pain again. In that moment, you would have do anything to become a werewolf, just to take away his pain. After all, you should be the one feeling it.

Your face is mysteriously wet, and you realize you're crying. You furiously wipe your tears away.

"Stiles."

You look into his eyes, which you have always teased him looked like a puppy's eyes. They are slightly glazed.

"You okay?" He asks.

In spite of yourself, you have to laugh. "Am _I _okay? Seriously?" You sputter. But you know that even dying, Scott is more concerned for his friends than himself. It's just who he is.

"Are you?"

You nod, unable to speak.

He closes his eyes and laughs again. "Y'know, I never got to watch _Star Wars_."

"What? I thought I told Kira you were required to watch it!"

He opens his eyes again and looks at you. "Yeah, well, there was the whole thing with the Berserkers and Kate taking Kira and I to Mexico."

You can't think of anything else to say. You then realize that the fighting has stopped. You look up and see Derek is walking towards the two of you. He bends down, and lightly touches Scott's arm, and you watch as the beta's veins turn black, taking away Scott's pain.

"Do you remember the Glen Capri?" Scott asks. You nod.

"How could I forget?"

"You told me I was your brother. And I never got to tell you..." He takes a gasping breath. "You're my brother, and I love you."

You want more than anything to reply. But you can't form the words or open your mouth.

"Hey, Stiles." You look at him one more time. He looks so tired. "Breathe."

And in that moment, when he closes his eyes, you know he's dead.

You vaguely register Lydia hugging you and crying, but you don't move or speak. Kira is standing a few yards away, katana hanging from her hand and silent tears running down her face. Peter, Malia, and Braeden are out of sight, and Derek is doing the same thing you are- sitting silently and unmoving.

You hear in the distance, and coming closer, an extremely familiar sound- police sirens. Your father is coming.

The sirens reach an ear-deafening volume, then become quiet. You hear doors opening and slamming shut. "Oh _God,_" your father says. _ God? He's got nothing to do with this,_ you think. The officers run to the silent group. You know only two police officers, your father and Deputy Parrish, will understand what has really happened. Thankfully, they are the only officers there.

Your father picks you up, and your hand is removed from Scott's. The sheriff hugs you, and you realize he's crying. Crying for a boy that he considered a son. You still are unable to move, and you don't try. Parrish helps Lydia to her feet. Your father is talking to you, you can see his mouth moving, but you can't hear a word he's saying.

You father grabs your shoulders and starts leading you to his car. You suddenly realize that he's taking you away from Scott. You scream and try to fight away, but an exhausted, and frankly already weak, teenager is not hard to control. Your father once again grabs you and murmurs words into your ear. Words like _It's okay._ Words that are lies, and you both know it. You stop struggling and take shuddering breaths. You go into the car, and a few seconds later you are joined by a shaking Lydia. Your father goes back to the area and begins talking to Kira and Derek. After that, many things begin fading away. Except for a few selective senses.


	4. Chapter 4

One of those senses is the feeling of cold water as someone aggressively tries to scrub the blood off your hands and arms. During the shock of the death, the crimson red and in some areas black stains were unnoticed. But when you looked down, saw your brother's blood, and screamed louder than ever, getting it off became first priority for the people that weren't frozen. You don't see who the person with the sponge is, but you can tell they're crying with you.

The second sense is Melissa's broken screams as your father tells the nurse her son is dead. Scott's father, a man that for years you had known as purely as a drunk bastard, but had recently saved your life and your partial respect, stands silently staring at the ground. Once again, you want to say something, _anything_, but no words come to mind.

Another is the sunlight streaming through the windows at the police station the next day. Kira is sitting next to you, biting her nails. Lydia is sitting on the other side of you, most likely trying to listen to the voices. She, like you, hasn't spoken a word since it happened. You realize that this is the second time she has sat on the bench that the police station after one of her friends was killed- the first time being after Allison died. Scott and Isaac had been with her then. When you are brought into a room and people you don't know are asking questions, you don't respond. You can't even hear them. Eventually, they give up and move on to Kira.

The final sense is your screams as you wake up from nightmares. It is your first time attempting sleep for two nights, and you wish you hadn't tried. Every time you fall asleep, you see Scott dying in some way. Usually it's what happened the previous night, but there are many occasions that involve the Nogitsune. The worst two nightmares are how he really died, except you're the hunter. He begs for you to stop, but you just smile and release the bowstring. The other nightmare is the Nogitsune standing before you, covered in bandages, strangling Scott while telling you your brother is just the first of the people you love that it will destroy.

Every time you wake up you wonder if reality is just another nightmare.

Time goes on. The shock wears off, your senses slowly come back, and you and Lydia begin speaking again. But it doesn't make anything easier.

You can't sleep again. Every time you try, you have to scream yourself awake from a nightmare. Most of the time after waking up you climb into your broken down Jeep and drive to the McCall house. Melissa leaves the door unlocked now. You go inside, quiet as you can be, and just lay in Scott's bed. It feels strange, but you find comfort in the fact you're not the only one. You often find Kira there, and occasionally Lydia and Liam. You can only talk to the mourning beta; when you find the two girls you can't think of anything to say.

You try going to school, which is also a terrible idea. When you walk into your first period class and see the empty desk you need to sit behind, you immediately feel the choking feeling of a panic attack. The instructor, Kira's father, sees you and knows exactly what's happening. He nods and gestures that you can leave.

You sprint through the hallways, unable to breathe, and find yourself in the locker room. Strangely, the last few times you had a panic attack, you ended up in that room. The world is spinning crazily, and you know the only way to stop the panic attack is to calm down and breathe. And you also know that the task is next to impossible. You fall onto the ground, and sit there, quietly. After a minute, you realize that you're waiting for someone that won't come.

Lydia can't hear you, so she won't come.

Your father doesn't know, so he won't come.

Malia doesn't understand, so she won't come.

And Scott is dead.

The thought doesn't help you through the panic attack.

You start rummaging through your bag, trying to find something to help you. Finding nothing but folders, you start shaking. Suddenly, you hear a familiar clatter of something hitting the ground. You look down and see Scott's inhaler, which has been forgotten for months. The last time it had been used it was right after Scott had been bitten and was having his first and only panic attack. He hadn't known what was happening. You had given him his inhaler, making him believe he was having an asthma attack. Using the inhaler made him take a breath, ending the panic attack.

You smile slightly at the memory and stare at the inhaler. A moment later, you realize the panic attack is over.

"_Hey Stiles. Breathe," _You suddenly remember, and the smile fades from your face. The panic attack may be over, but you're still far from okay. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Your senses fade away again the day of the funeral. You can process two things, the first being is that everyone's wearing gray, not black. You wonder why and how that was planned. You see many people that you know, but don't acknowledge them.

You don't want to look into the casket in the front of the room. You didn't want to look into the casket at Allison's funeral either. But both times you did it anyway.

He's wearing a white shirt, so that the tattoo of double stripes that he was so desperate to get show through. You smirk at the memory of when he first tried getting the tattoo on, before he knew that in order for a werewolf to have a tattoo it needs to be burned onto the skin. He was so proud, and you thought it was horrifying. In fact, you had passed out. You smirk even more at the memory of the sad and slightly insulted look on his face as you said "Thank God… I hated it." when he, in shock, said that it had healed.

You return to the present time. The memory fades, along with the smirk. You're still standing there. You're still surrounded by people wearing gray. And he's still gone. You feel your throat clench up, and for one terrible second, you can't breathe. The lights begin blinding your eyes - and then you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look, expecting to see your father. Instead, you see a silent Derek Hale looking down at the casket. You realize that this must be extremely painful for him too. You remember what Peter said so long ago: "Losing a member of the pack isn't like losing family; it's like losing a limb." Derek and Scott hadn't always gotten along, but Derek was still part of the pack and still a werewolf. You nod to him and slowly walk away.

You stay as silent as Derek the rest of the day.

Days go by. Kira and Lydia become even closer friends; Malia leaves with Braeden, Peter, and Derek to find the mysterious "Desert Wolf"; and Liam becomes the new captain of the lacrosse team. As for you: for not the first time, your dad has you go talk to psychologists. Luckily for you, you have learned to tell them just what they want to hear and add some emotion to make it sound believable. It's not like they can help you. There would be complications if you actually told them the _real_ reason you're seeing them is because you and the damned Nogitsune are responsible for the deaths of many people: some innocents; like the doctors and nurses at the hospital, some warriors; like Allison, and even _your best friend_. Yeah, telling them that would work out so well. You'd be sent to Eichen House for the second time. Or prison. Then again, what's the difference, really?

Then one day, something strange happens. You're sitting in sticky chair with one of your least favorite psychologists, and you are absolutely bored out of your mind. Suddenly, he says something that fills you with white-hot rage. You leap out of your chair, and it clatters to the floor. You open your mouth and pour out an insult to him that surprises even you, and you are known for insults.

Psychologists are supposed to be patient, and you're sure that this man is no exception usually. But you'd be angry if someone said _that _to you. The doctor's face turns a lovely fuchsia color.

"How DARE you?!" He roars. You smirk at the look on his face.

"Oops. Did I say that out loud?" You reply, making yourself sound overly innocent.

"Why- you- I ought to-" He trailed off. "Just… COME WITH ME."

You smile even more and follow him as he storms out of the room, where your father is waiting. You still don't care about the consequences of your actions.

The doctor speaks to your father, and you see the sheriff's expressions change dramatically, from horrified to outraged. He grinds his teeth together and says a firm apology. He then slowly turns and glares at you. Yep, you're in trouble.

The entire car ride home your father is yelling louder than you thought he could. You remain silent.

When the two of you get home, the same angry rush comes back. You begin yelling back at your father. He's surprised, but doesn't falter. The argument escalates quickly, and you're soon screaming names that once were only murmured quietly.

You've been yelling for nearly twenty minutes when you actually realize you're fighting with your father. _Oh my God, _you think. _What am I doing? He doesn't deserve this. _But yet, you don't stop yelling. You realize that even though he doesn't deserve any of what you're saying, you feel good fighting with him. Because fighting with your parent is the most normal teenager thing you have done in months.

After nearly an hour, you make it seem like you've had enough, because it's expected. You grab the keys to your jeep and drive away from the house at a speed that triples the limit. You finally realize why you had been fighting with your father. You screamed what you have been wanting for scream for weeks. What you had been doing had nothing to do with what was said. The words that were yelled meant nothing. What mattered was that you screamed all the frustration and guilt that had been building up. You then realize you still blame yourself for Scott's death.

The night-darkened world suddenly turns blurry. You're crying. You rub your face to dry the tears; however, this is a completely useless action, due to the fact that for every tear you dry, two more replace it.

Suddenly, two flashes of reflected light on the road catch your attention. Wolf eyes. You slam the brakes, but you're going far too fast to stop. You swerve to avoid the creature, and the next thing you know is a smashing sound and complete darkness.

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><p><strong>AN: Many thanks to ****ladybug114 & Loverofanime1324 for your reviews! I'm so glad you both enjoy reading this fanfiction. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

There's a ringing sound in the darkness. A very _loud _ringing sound. You try to cover your ears, but for some reason you can't move. Slowly, the ringing fades away, and instead you hear softly spoken voices. You try to make out some of the words, but mostly all you can understand is _...slid off bridge, ….going too fast, _and _...might be able to hear you... don't know for certain. _

_What? _Is all you can manage to think. You try to open your eyes, sit up, anything, but it feels like every part of your body is covered in lead.

The voices stop, and a door opens and closes slowly.

"Stiles?" A new voice says. You can't believe it. It's your father's.

_Dad? _You try to say, but you can't open your mouth either.

Your father walks over, and takes your hand in his. You wish you could see him.

"Stiles, the doctor says you might be able to hear me… but.. I-I don't know. I just wanted to say I'm sorry." He says in a broken voice. You hate it. You want more than anything to tell him the truth, that nothing was ever his fault, you were just too wrapped up in guilt to see clearly. But you can't say anything, which is more torture than you could ever have imagined.

"You'd be amazed how much you look like your mother," your father unexpectedly says. "Remember how strong she was in the end, even though she couldn't -" He breaks off and lets out a silent sob. If you could do the same, you probably would too. "She-she was always so hopeful," he continues, and laughs shakily. "I wonder what she would say if she knew all the crazy stuff that's been happening recently. She'd probably say, 'See? I told you _some _of the fairy tales were real.' Of course, nothing of what's happened is at all related to any fairy tales."

There's a moment of silence. _Dad? _you try to say. _Dad, are you okay? _

You hear a sob. "Stiles, I need you to come back, okay? I need you _here._ I can't lose you too. Don't do this to me... don't make me bury another member of my family."

Suddenly, machines around you begin beeping crazily. You hear your father gasp and start shouting for help. People- doctors, you assume- come running into the room.

Slowly, the sounds around the room begin fading. The last thing you hear is your father screaming your name.


	7. Chapter 7

**Dedicated to Hannah HasSpareTime**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

The last time you came back to your senses, everything was too dark. Now everything is too bright. The white light blinds you. Slowly, however, the light fades and you can start to make out shapes. You're in a room. By the walls there are shelves, with- books? on them. Yes, books. And everything is white. _Why _is everything white? The light goes down slightly more, and you see the rest of the room. Wait. There's something not all white far away in one of the corners…

Wait.

No.

_It's a trick, _you tell yourself. _Don't believe it. _

But you believe it.

Because sitting in that corner is Scott.

For a moment, you have absolutely no idea what to do. Then when you finally begin thinking again, you realize he has no idea you're there. He's not looking anywhere around you; he's looking at something on the table he is sitting at. You take a step forward -and are immediately stopped by something you can't see. _An invisible wall? That's a new one. _ You think.

"Scott!" You yell. He doesn't respond. Confused, you yell his name again. Still no response. _C'mon, Scott, where's your superwolf hearing when you need it? _You take a deep breath and yell as loudly as possible. Finally, he registers the sound and looks up. You can honestly say that you have never seen a look of shock like that on his face before. He says your name, but you can't hear it. At blurring speed, he runs right to you.

You open your mouth to say something, but you don't know what to say. Your _best friend _is _standing in front of you. _But he's dead. He's _dead, _you _watched _him die. Because of you. But he's still right there. Unable to speak, you touch his arm, just to be sure it's really him. And it is.

"Stiles?"

The sound of his voice, naturally concerned for you, takes away any sanity you might have had left.

_"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" _You cry out, desperate and confused.

Unfortunately, Scott obviously doesn't know either. "Stiles?" He asks again, more uncertain, as if he's not sure it's really you. "How are you here?"

"I-I don't know. I remember my dad," you recall. "And noises. And-" You stop, and reality washes over you. "Oh my _God_! I was dying! Am I dead? Is this heaven? Or hell?" Then you want to slap yourself for saying that. Hell? Scott was here. In your opinion, Scott should have gotten a free ride to heaven in a limousine. But you don't belong in heaven, that you're certain of.

He laughs quietly. "I don't think so." He reaches out and lightly touches the side of your face. "You're a little too energetic to be dead." He says it softly and good-naturedly, but you can still hear the concern in his voice. You grab the hand next to your face and hold it there. That brings out all of his concern.

"Stiles? You okay?"

You're about to say _I'm fine_, just like every other time someone would ask you that, and you suddenly remember the last time Scott said those words. He had been dying. A sudden stabbing pain goes through you and you gasp. You turn away from him, now filled with shame.

_"Stiles?" _He asks suddenly. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean the 'too energetic to be dead comment'…" He trails off, and you're completely confused. _Why is he apologizing? _You wonder. Then you want to laugh. He thinks you turned away from him because you're mad at him.

You turn back slowly, tears starting to fill your eyes. "Scott, I'm so, so, sorry."

He's now confused. "What for?"

"I killed you, Scott."

He turns pale. _"What?_ What are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember how you died?"

"Yes…" He is absolutely dumbstruck for a moment, then he realizes what you're thinking. "Oh God." He grabs your shoulders and spins you towards him. You close your eyes tightly so you don't have to look at him. "Stiles… look at me, man. Stiles, _please, _look at me."

Against your will, you slowly open your eyes. His brown eyes are full of concern and fear. "It wasn't your fault, Stiles. I swear to _God _or whoever the hell might be listening, it _wasn't your fault._"

"_Why?"_ You scream. "Why do you swear that, Scott? If it weren't for me, you'd still be alive. You could be getting ready to go college. You could be considering marrying Kira. You wouldn't have bled out in the middle of an alley at the age of _seventeen…" _

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, _you _would have bled out in the middle of an alley at the age of seventeen. You wouldn't be considering marrying Malia. You wouldn't be getting ready to go to college." He starts to sound angry. "Stiles, I-" He suddenly stops, and calms down. "Stiles, I saved you because they _need _you."

You laugh sarcastically. "No one needs me. Not like they need you."

He closes his eyes and softly laughs. "Wrong, so wrong. Come on, Stiles, I thought you were always right. _They _need you so much."

"Who are you calling 'they'?"

He smiles sadly. "The people crying for you right now, hoping that you come back. The people praying or screaming at God right now for why _you_, who has felt so much pain and gone through _so much, _would slide off a bridge late at night because you were driving too fast. The people who refuse to believe that you're gone, even though right now your heart isn't beating and you aren't breathing."

You open your mouth to speak, but he keeps talking. "And there's someone else I haven't even mentioned yet that needs you… someone that needs you alive so much that they would take an arrow for you."

You gasp. "Scott…"

"Stiles, don't you remember what I said that night? You're my _brother. _I need you. I need you _alive_. I need you to take care of everyone. I swear, I meant everything I said that night. And trust me when I tell you this… the only thing I regret saying is that I never got to watch _Star Wars._"

You stand there, speechless. You never expected Scott to ever say anything like that. Of course, you never expected to be standing where you are now.

"Does- does that mean I can't stay here?"

He looks to the ground. "No, Stiles, it's not your time."

"When will it be?"

He sighs and looks at you. His eyes don't hold the worry, fear, and slight contempt you had seen for the last months of his life. Instead, those brown eyes hold something beautiful- peace.

"Don't wish for death, Stiles. Don't fight it, but don't wish for it."

There's a silence.

"I miss you, Stiles."

"I miss you too, Scott."

The sadness is then broken with a smile from Scott. "This won't be the last time we see each other, Stiles. I promise."

"Scott…"

"Give everyone my love. Tell Kira she's beautiful. Tell Lydia she is smart and talented, tell Liam that he is going to be the best lacrosse player on the planet, tell Derek to lighten up, tell Malia to practice her powers, tell my mom that I love her and not to cry anymore, and tell my dad he still needs to keep his promises."

You nod.

"And Stiles, I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry for dragging you with me into the supernatural world. Things would have been so different if I hadn't."

You laugh half-heartedly. "As I remember, I dragged you into the woods."

"Maybe," he replies with a sad smile.

Suddenly, you hear a loud ringing, and perhaps distorted voices. "Scott, what's-?" You're cut off as the lights again turn blindingly bright and you begin to feel a choking feeling, like a panic attack.

"Stiles," is all that you hear and suddenly you're pulled into a tight hug. "Hey Stiles…" the ringing isn't so loud anymore, "Breathe."

And so you do.

And you suddenly open your eyes and see the faces of many doctors and your father, staring at you in complete shock. You stare back at them, and you suddenly remember everything. And for the first time in a long time, you smile a genuine smile. Because you know that everything will be alright.

At an amazing speed, your father grabs you and hugs you. He's sobbing in relief and murmuring your name over and over. But something isn't right, you notice. He's gasping.

"Hey Dad," you say slowly, and he slightly relaxes his grip on you. "Breathe."

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><p><strong>And my first fanfiction is finished. <strong>

**I meant to upload this last night, but something terrible happened. In light of this, there is a message that I would like to tell anyone of any religion, race, ethnicity, gender, or sexuality. You're amazing the way you are. Don't let anyone or anything tell you different. We're put on this planet because we are strong enough to handle it. I know it hurts; I too know how much it hurts. I know how much you just want to give up sometimes, and I know how it seems like ending your life will make all the pain will go away. And I also know that whenever someone looks at you, their eyes overflowing with sympathy, and they tell you "Just hold on," you want to throw something at them. I get it. I _know_ it. But please, just trust me, life gets better. You _always_ need to keep holding on. People need you more than you'll ever know. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you're never alone. Someone is always there, you sometimes just don't see them. And while you need these people, they need you back. I just hope to God that it doesn't take a 911 call, an ambulance, and an oxygen mask for you to realize it. **

**I know that the lives of the boy that I am referring to and myself won't suddenly get better. I know it'll still hurt for a long time, I know that we're not done crying, and I know that we'll both need help from other people. I'm not one to hope. I find it difficult to see past pain and look to a better life. But sometimes, hope is the only thing we have to hold on to. And what's absolutely amazing is in those times, hope is an unbelievable comfort. **

**I would also like to address another emotion, and one that's nearly as difficult to find as hope: compassion. Last night, there was an old man whose name I never learned. He didn't need to or was any way forced to help, he could have simply walked back to his movie and not gotten involved. But, instead, he came to help. So to this unknown man: Bless your soul, and many thanks. **

**To Hannah, to whom this chapter is dedicated to: I love you. Thanks for listening to me crying and helping, even though you didn't know what you were doing. **

**To everyone: Go**_** mbeannai Dia duit. **_(May God Bless You)

**Until next time, **

**~Scarlet **


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